


Going Home, He's Finally

by quiet_like_boom



Category: E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial (1982), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Aliens, Crossover, Gen, Headcanon, alien - Freeform, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:51:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiet_like_boom/pseuds/quiet_like_boom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After giving up on building communication device, a lost and confused ET does what he should have done a long time ago-- uses a human's home phone to make a call to his grandfather, whose identity may or may not come as a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Home, He's Finally

These things that the earthlings call phones are strange devices, thought the small brown alien who had somehow found himself standing on a stool in the kitchen of a human house. This was not most people’s idea of an ordinary Sunday evening, but then again it wasn’t exactly every day that a human household’s youngest son secretly took in a lost extraterrestrial and let them live in their closet for a week.

According to Elliot, I should be able to contact anyone on these. Anyone at all. 

How much would an intergalactic phone call cost on a payphone? He wasn’t sure, but a lack of any Earthly currency had made it so that instead, the poor alien found himself sneaking into a human kitchen at midnight in the hopes of finding and using their own phone. He figured it was better than stealing their money, at least.

Well, here I am, using their things again. They’ve done so much for me. I just wish I could speak English well enough to thank the boy in person. I’ll just have to leave him a gift or a thank you note or something before I go.

The young swamp man’s Human English was abominable, and although he had tried to ask for permission to use their telephone many times, he didn’t think the little boy who’d taken him in had understood. The kid couldn’t even pronounce his name, and so had elected to call him ET— which he understood was meant to stand for “extra-terrestrial” or whatever it is humans called the creatures for other planets. 

Even with the nickname, however, no amount of stammering “ET phone home” had seemed to convince the little human to actually hand him any sort of telecommunications device. So here he was, standing on the wooden stool, examining a ‘phone’ he wasn’t sure he was allowed to use and looking around frantically in the process to make sure nobody had noticed him.

The “phone” ET was currently holding was a strange, plasticky looking object (humans were quite fond of this substance called plastic, his own species having not much use for it). It was shaped sort of like a radio transistor of the type they used in spaceships, and was connected by a cord to a box that in turn was connected by yet another cord to a plug on one of the walls. These humans sure like their cords.

To even be able to see the phone, cords and all, ET had had to stand on a stool in order to reach the countertop on which it was perched, as he was rather short by human standards at slightly over three feet. Despite his Earthly shortness and not having lost the brown tint of his youthly skin, he was kind of tall in his own world- his grandfather, for instance, who had helped raise him all those many years ago, was about six inches shorter than him.

Speaking of his grandfather, it was probably time to call.

ET took out his own broken transistor and gave it a regretful glance one last time. If only he hadn’t gotten out of contact. If only he hadn’t become lost on this unforgiving planet. Stupid botany expedition, he thought bitterly, absentmindedly winding one of the cords around a long finger. Well, nothing I can change about that now except getting out of here.

Hopefully this communication conversion device would work. 

He was glad the house was sleeping, at any rate, instead of being around to watch him try. All he had to do, or so he’d been told, was snap the little robotic clip onto the device and operate it like normal, and it would make a call out to his grandfather. 

The trick was using the proper mathematical algorithm in order to convert the communication code into a phone number. Being of a particularly advanced species, however, ET didn’t have much of a problem with this, and after only a few minutes he was able to convert the number, dialing it into the phone with ease.

What followed was the most nerve-wracking series of beeps and buzzes that ET had ever heard in his entire life. The phone, which was large and clumsy and not well suited to ET’s general smallness, started to shake in his hands. He was just about ready to drop the device, give up, and run far, far away when something amazing happened.

The proper chime sounded through the phone, and somebody answered his call.

“Greetings. Am I speaking to whom?”

A familiar voice rang out through ET’s ears in his home language (Yodic, it was called), and his little alien heart started to pound. It was the first time he’d heard his language in weeks- ever since that stupid botany expedition left him behind, he’d heard nothing but Human English 24-7, and as his skills were lacking it was starting to drive him mad.

“Grandfather? It’s Eeiyok. Me,” ET answered, careful not to drop the phone in his excitement at hearing something.

“Eeiyok? That you were lost your friends had told me.” His grandfather was using his proper name, another thing that ET hadn’t heard in weeks.

“Yes, Grandfather. Lost I was.”

And ET explained his situation as calmly as he could, feeling as though he’d been carrying a large boulder atop his shoulders and it was slowly crumbling off him into the dust of absolved worry. At last, help was possible. At last, he might be able to leave this godforsaken planet once and for all.

At the end of his story, his grandfather took pause for a second before responding, a pause that seemed to suck all the negative energy of the room and replace it with hope.

“To hear your voice again, I am glad.”

ET could almost feel his grandfather smiling at him. It had been years since they had lived on the same planet. His grandfather had long been a high-ranking advisor to a council headquartered on another planet, a council of users of a mysterious and powerful force seemingly not present where ET was now. There had been much unrest in their galaxy as of late, so his incredibly busy grandfather had barely been home at all and was often out of contact. This only made ET feel more relieved to be able to talk to him again.

“I’m glad to hear your voice too, Grandpa.” Human English grammar. Oops.

His grandfather chuckled. “Losing your Yodic grammar you are, my boy. Among the Earth people you have been too long.”

“Human for three weeks I have been speaking,” ET replied defensively, but couldn’t help but laugh. Going between Yodic grammar and Universal or Human grammar had been something that his own grandfather had never been particularly good at.

Suddenly, another voice came from the other end.

Master Yoda… it echoed, sounding tinny through the end of the phone. Are you busy?

“Busy at the moment I am,” his grandfather replied. “Lost my grandson has been. Called me he has. To pick him up I must send someone. That my presence cannot be spared I understand.”

Grandfather Yoda and the other man had a conversation for a minute while ET nervously listened. Any minute, either of the boy’s parents could wake up, discover him again, and it would all be over—after the fiasco with the contagion tent, everyone but Elliot and his siblings thought he was dead and that was a beneficial thing.

Finally, Yoda seemed to be done talking to the voice on the other end, for he addressed his grandson again.

“My boy, my boy, rescue you we will. Our date of rescue, the Earth holiday Halloween is. Three days you will wait. Then come in our ship we will. Home we shall take you.”

“Thank you, Grandfather. Miss you, I do.”

“And I you. Soon I will see you, my boy. Back to work now I must go. Three days, you will be rescued in. The nearest forest, you must go to. Pick you up, there we will. Forget, you must not. Fare well.”

“Fare well, Grandfather.”

ET hung up the phone, happier than he had been in a long time. He’d been through a lot- including nearly dying of a serious illness he had caught while here- and he knew full well there were still more trials to come before he could get back to his home galaxy, but the worst of it was over, and he was to be rescued in three days.

The young alien man scurried to the closet he’d been hiding in, arranging around himself a pile of stuffed animals so that, worst come to worst, he might be thought of as a toy if discovered. To a background soundtrack of the steady breathing of sleeping humans and the occasional car horn outside, he closed his eyes, figuring on getting some sleep so he could get energized for a long day of preparing for the journey ahead of him.

Thanks to Master Yoda, ET was finally going home.

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was inspired by some headcanons of mine that came about based on the image linked below. I do not own Star Wars or ET or any of its characters. Credit to the original content creators, as well as whoever created the image I got the idea for this fanfiction from.
> 
> Constructive feedback always welcome--hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_sVWGl23TZlQ/THZ--S IoGI/AAAAAAAABL4/i0aC2BL4xJM/s400/awesome_tshirt_designs_640_03.jpg


End file.
